


The Highest Place

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Family, Marriage, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11104350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: Tauriel prepares to marry Kili, with Dis and Sigrid helping ready her. She has few regrets and much to look forward to. She's one under the Mountain now.





	The Highest Place

 

 

 

The Mountain was always full f strange constant activity and noise. It took Tauriel many months to see that there were patterns in such Dwarvish behaviour, how it could be said there was organisation amongst what appeared to be rough and ill-mannered chaos. Now, though, she could not hear any truculent noise beyond her door. The hallways seemed truly quiet, as most gathered in the great hall, awaiting her arrival, awaiting her wedding.

 

She was only joined in her chambers by Dis and Sigrid; only married Dwarves, or indeed Daughters of Men, were permitted and these were the only two Tauriel wished for company at such a time. Truly, for all her time in the Mountain, they were two of the few Tauriel would count as those she had forged friendship with.

 

Dis was sewing a button onto an elaborately-embroidered shirt. The shirt was palest green and the threads were darker shades interspersed with gold, forming beautiful rich patterns. Sigrid was inspecting a buckle not quite attached to a boot. They were both busy and smiling and seemed content in the unusual quiet.

 

Tauriel appreciated such consideration as the hour approached when she would stand before all who called the Mountain theirs and state before them her choice and then be bound by it. There were some, she was certain, that were convinced she would not appear for the ceremony or that it was a distraction for the Elves of Mirkwood to use in order to attempt to take the Mountain and its riches for themselves.

 

Tauriel did not like to think overly of Mirkwood. It was no longer her home; any there no longer her family. It was a pain that would scar but that would remain.

 

Dis’ hand closed over Tauriel’s. Tauriel realised that she had been twisting a string of beads together, the clatter of them likely loud in such silence. She looked at the Dwarf who would be her mother-in-law; Dis’ gaze was always keen but it was warm now too and she squeezed Tauriel’s hand.

 

“Leave such thoughts here, girl,” she said, an order sheathed in suggestion. “Today is no place for vexings.”

 

She did not ask for explanations; perhaps she knew. Dis was the shrewdest Dwarf Tauriel had yet met; a diplomat and politician who could talk to Elves and Men as she spoke to fellow Dwarves. Tauriel had accompanied her to meetings with King Thranduil – at King Thorin’s request, Tauriel knew she was being used against her former King but she understood well the reasons why and did not resent them. King Thorin did not attempt to hide them from her; he respected her that much.

 

Dis’ respect was clear too and her affection. Tauriel valued such gifts, especially today. She turned her hand over to squeeze Dis’ slowly in return, hoping her gratitude was clear. Dis’ smile seemed answer enough. Tauriel had learned to read Dis as Dis had learned to read her. They talked often but they did not always have to.

 

Sigrid got to her feet and handed the repaired boot to Tauriel. Her expression was bright and happy, and there were braids twisted through her hair, adorned with beads and ornaments fashioned by her husband. Her wedding to Fili had taken place only three months before; a political arrangement between Dale and Erebor which had borne a quiet growing happiness for both Fili and Sigrid. Tauriel had held affection for Sigrid since her time in Dale; from this day on they would call each other sister. Tauriel’s expression softened.

 

The three stood there, looking at each other, quiet and content and also edged by anticipation. It was a good feeling, something to savour. Dis did not let go of Tauriel’s hand but she did break the silence.

 

“Well, we cannot keep my son waiting _too_ long.”

 

There was a twinkle in her eye and Tauriel did not lose her smile. Only the day before, Fili had been full of stories of Kili’s nerves. He had re-enacted Kili’s behaviour to great laughter and Tauriel’s smile. Tauriel’s heart beat a little faster now, thinking of brash beloved Kili who had continued to choose her when so many in the Mountain had been against it. He had been her choice before she had truly realised what that had meant.

 

Now Dis dropped her hand and plucked the beads from Tauriel’s fingers. She gestured to Sigrid who retrieved combs and yet more beads.

 

“Come, daughter.”

 

Tauriel sat and allowed her hair to be combed out until it shone, then carefully divided so that braids could be permitted. Tauriel had learned the significance of each twist and felt the weight of what was being bestowed on her. It was a great honour, shared with only Sigrid beyond Dwarves. It was the truest sign that Erebor was their home now and had almost come to welcome and accept them.

 

Dis hummed quietly and formed a braid to replace the courtship one Tauriel had worn for almost a year now. This new one meant her wedding day; Kili would untwist it later after the ceremony when the two of them were alone and would create another to symbolise their marriage, identical to the one she would braid into his hair. Dis sealed it with a deep green bead and then created a braid that marked Tauriel as part of the Durin family. Sigrid formed one for Tauriel’s relationship with Erebor and another for Dale, both sealed with dark gold-coloured fastenings. The quiet clicking of the beads and metal was a familiar comfort to Tauriel now.

 

Once, she had drawn peace from the forest, from climbing a tree as high as she could and drinking in the sun. She had found comfort and contentment in drawing back her bow and the sing of metal as she had sparred with swords. She had especially liked the view from the highest places of the palace that had been her home, where she could see a world she felt increasingly, secretly, curious about. It had been a yearning she had forced herself to deny.

 

She still drew back her bow and enjoyed the sing of metal. She was part of Erebor’s guard. The Dwarven guards had been the first to truly welcome her; for how she had acquitted herself in battle and how she had saved the youngest Durin heir. And there were hunts and rides out of the Mountain to bring in food – they could not rely entirely on trade for sustenance. Tauriel could learn and explore the land the Dwarves called their own and that Dale owned also. Dis and Fili, ruling Erebor while King Thorin had been recovering from his wounds, had decreed that the Mountain would not be an island fortress outside of war, for there were too many needs to answer within. It would not be Mirkwood.

 

There was a rustle and Sigrid’s hands fell away. Tauriel turned to see her wearing a secret smile and watching Dis, who was removing a bead from her own beard. Tauriel had been instructed to expect such a personal gift. A Dwarf’s beads were deeply valued, a story of their life, a display of their accomplishments and victories. Still, it caused Tauriel's mouth to still.

 

“My mother made many beads. One set, she made for my wedding. One of them, I have given to Sigrid. Now I give another to you, Daughter.”

 

Tauriel swallowed, moved beyond the capability of words. This was greater than acceptance. She felt Sigrid’s presence close by and heard the beads tinkle. The sound increased as she nodded in response.

 

Dis touched her shoulder warmly before adding the bead to the end of a complicated braid that marked Tauriel as a Mountain warrior for her deeds in the Battle for Erebor. Dis displayed many similar braids, beside the one that marked her as a widow.

 

The braids were complete. There was a moment, then Tauriel reached slowly to touch them, to learn the texture and weight. It would take her a little time to adjust to how they would affect her movement while hunting and fighting. It felt strange but also, welcome.

 

Dis stood in front of her, “I will call you Daughter. But I do not expect you to call me Mother.”

 

Sigrid never did – treasuring still the memory of her own mother, long passed birthing Tilda. But she accepted the title Daughter gladly and was close to Dis. Tauriel nodded; the title was an honour, a true sign of Dis’ acceptance of her. She did not remember her own mother; her family had been King Thranduil and Legolas for as long as her memory allowed. But she could not conceive of calling Dis anything but a honorific. She touched the gifted bead.

 

“I thank you.”

 

Diss eyes were warm but her expression serious, “Keep my son safe with your sword and bow. Gain your beads and scars. Be as the Valor made you.”

 

Tauriel bowed her head at the blessing. “All these things, I pledge to.”

 

Dis kissed her forehead and then held out the embroidered shirt. “To see the look on my son’s face will be another blessing indeed. And the look on Dain’s.”

 

Sigrid laughed. She herself wore a blue shirt and a long pale skirt, her braided hair tied away from her face and her wrists layered with several shining bracelets, displays of her husband’s talent and generosity. She appeared healthy and happy and had been glad, she had told Tauriel before, to be asked to accompany her to the great hall for her wedding.

 

“Fili said Dain drank so much at our wedding because it was a success and he’d been hoping for a failure.”

 

Dis rolled her eyes, “I never thought any would be worse than Thorin but that’s the Iron Hills. He will learn.”

 

King Thorin had not been overt in his welcome to Tauriel but he had still welcomed her, a sign, Dis had said privately, of how the companionship of Bilbo Baggins had changed her brother. The Hobbit was often at the King’s side and was considered his consort, with gold trinkets braided into his curling hair. He had always been polite and kind to Tauriel and was a favourite of both Kili and Fili. He was such a small soft creature, such an unlikely companion for the stern narrow King Thorin but Tauriel had seen how King Thorin looked at him and respected the bond that, she could also see, echoed her own with Kili. Perhaps Bilbo Baggins had said as much to King Thorin; he said much to the King Under the Mountain that others did not dare and yet problems were solved and the Dwarves grew stronger. King Thranduil had no such bond with any Tauriel could recall.

 

As for King Thorin, he had accepted Kili and Tauriel’s betrothal and had taken clear delight in how it would affect King Thranduil, once the King of Mirkwood knew of it. The news would not break until after the ceremony. Tauriel’s smile was small and hard.

 

She rose to change her clothing. She buttoned the shirt across her chest, noting how her rapid heartbeat made the buttons tremble, and tucked the fabric into fitted breeches. The boots were fastened and her swords slung across her back. Dwarves married as warriors; Tauriel would do so too.

 

Sigrid held up a glass and Tauriel stared at the reflection she saw there. She was an Elf unmistakably but there was a difference too, as there had been in Sigrid’s countenance since her residency in the Mountain had begun. It was not a painful sight.

 

Tauriel had not dreamed of marrying Legolas. But she had thought of life at his side. Now, she would tie a bead into Kili’s hair and speak Khazdul before Dwarves who mostly wished to welcome her and gape at the sight of an Elf and Dwarf bonding. The choices made by the Mountain’s royalty would be told far and wide. Erebor would be spoken of as a place of miracles.

 

Tauriel was being used, just as Sigrid had been. But Tauriel knew that the bond she was sealing with Kili was one stronger than even the politics of the Mountain. It had been their choice.

 

Tauriel dipped a hand into the breeches she had discarded and revealed the pebble that Kili had once gifted her, when they had spoken about firemoons deep in Mirkwood’s dungeon. Dis’ eyes softened greatly at the sight; for she had been the one to gift it to Kili, extracting a promise that he would return safe from a quest she had long considered foolish.

 

Upon their reunion, once he had woken from his grievous wounds, Kili had told Tauriel to keep it, as the promise between them, the words he had once spoken to her in Khazdul that she had not known yet knew their meaning, still held true. She had kept it on her person ever since.

 

Tauriel closed her fingers, tracing the smooth surface and runic carving that she knew now by heart before secreting it in a pouch on her belt. There was a long knife at her hip; she would use it to cut a lock of her hair to give to Kili today, just as he would give her a piece of his. The strands would be intertwined and set in glass or amber. A memory of their promises made this day.

 

Tauriel would truly be Tauriel of Erebor now, though Mirkwood would leave its mark in her name, just as Sigrid continued to use Dale in her title also. It would needle King Thranduil, it’s only purpose rather than any honouring of where Tauriel had once called home.

 

She did not regret speaking to Kili that night in the dungeon, hearing his stories and learning his character. She did not regret pulling her bow on her King and proclaiming that again leaving other races to be slaughtered was wrong. She did not regret staying in Erebor. No matter how long her life would be in comparison to Kili’s, it would have suffered immeasurably without him touching it at all.

 

She would miss the trees and climbing high. But she had more than a view from a palace now.

 

_-the end_

 


End file.
